Doctor Who and the Honourable Bloodshed
by Linxthesontaran
Summary: An adventure with the Twelfth Doctor and Bill; they must travel back to the Battle of Hastings and prevent the last three sontarans in existence from severely altering humanity's history... and also its future... A working progress, so please do give feedback and comments. They would be greatly appreciated. Thank you.


**DOCTOR WHO**

 _and the_

 _Honourable Bloodshed_

"Museums!" cried the Doctor jubilantly, as he stepped outside the TARDIS, Bill closely following. "Did I mention how much I love museums?"

"Five times," replied Bill, pale. "So where are we? No! Sorry! _When_ are we?"

"52nd century," explained the time lord. "And we're in the biggest museum in history. In your terms, it's a giant space station exhibiting thousands of artefacts from all over earth's history. I figured that, well, with your standard life expectancy, you're not going to live for long. That is, compared with the thousands of years that I have left. So, there's no harm in showing you a little peek of humanity's future. Observe..."

They entered a grandiose hall, with towering (digital) pillars on either side and (plastic) chandeliers suspended upon hover machines. Around them, were many marvellous objects, all meticulously categorized into years and ages.

"So, how far does this stuff go back to?" asked Bill.

"Back to the dawn of time. Of course, it all became so easy with the invention of vortex manipulators. All a random person had to do was use one, travel back to the Stone Age and bring back 'Ug the caveman's first stick' and everyone was happy. Ah!" they reached a brilliant display. "The Battle of Hastings, 1066! Always wanted to go there, to lend a helping hand to Harold Godwinson. He fought valiantly that day, at least that's what we know from the famous Bayeux tapestry. And there it is!"

Protected behind an impervious pane of bullet proof glass, illuminated by lamps, was the tapestry itself. Bill watched as the battle took place before her eyes; knights raised their shields as swarms of arrows rained down upon them, while riders charged towards their foes, scattering their remains, like a bowling ball to skittles. Many lay dead upon the field, trampled by spooked horses and spluttering in their own blood. It was a vicious day.

"So, why haven't you gone back? You've got a time machine."

"I can't. It's a fixed moment in time. The outcome of that battle determines the future, your present, Bill. The Normans need to win, Harold must die- otherwise your time could be astronomically different to how you remember it."

However, just as they were about to resume their tour, Bill suddenly spotted something unusual sewn into the tapestry. She gasped in amazement and, without taking her eyes off it, patted the Doctor. The time lord turned around and started, aghast. They saw themselves in the tapestry! Bill rode a horse and the Doctor ran alongside her, his sonic screwdriver glowing! The Doctor took out his sonic and scanned the tapestry.

"It's not added on," he said, discombobulated. "It was sewn with the rest of it. Wait! My finger!" he pointed to the fabric version of himself. "I'm pointing to the TARDIS! I'm telling myself to go back! The future me, I mean! Well, technically the future me is in the past... but that doesn't matter now."

Seizing Bill's arm, he hurried into the TARDIS, closing the door behind him; instantaneously, he began pulling down levers and flicking switches. Suddenly, sparks flew from the console and a tendril of fire leapt up through a grate in the floor. The piles of books that surrounded them began to topple, as red lights flashed around them. Resilient, the time lord continued trying to take flight.

"What's happening? Why is everything exploding?"

"Because, like I said, the Battle of Hastings is a fixed point in time and it cannot be interfered with. The TARDIS knows this and is... trying to... stop us from going there," he put his full strength upon a lever, as if he was wrestling with his machine. "But the future- me has gone back and has left a message for _me_ \- me to warn me of a danger. Something has obviously arrived amidst that battle from the future and is attempting to drastically alter history. So, like a moth to a flame, we're going to put things straight. I'm cutting her resistance circuit- for the time being of course. Now then, 1066 here we come!"

A brooding mist enshrouded a vast, expansive space of luscious grass; dew clung to leaves, as if a green shawl was embroidered with silk on each side. A sinister chill was in the air. Amongst the mist, was a party of at least twenty tents, all scarlet and bearing the flag of England, which fluttered in the wind, like a waving hand. Meagre torches chased the sombre twilight away and caused it to retreat. A knight, clad in armour, approached the grandest of tents. He cast aside the doorway and entered. Before the soldier, two men stood consulting a map of east Sussex with deep concern.

"As you can see my lord," said one, "after the Battle of Stamford Bridge and the deaths of our foes, Tostig and Hardrada, William of Normandy has grown furious and has even invaded the south, at Pevensey! Our situation is become worse by the moment. As your advisor, I would highly advise that you should march quickly, assembling an army as you move."

"You are right," spoke the lord. "Then march, I will do so!" he noticed the humble knight, as he bowed to him. "What news do you bring? Are there any spies?"

"No, King Godwinson," replied the knight. "B... but there appears to be a rather strange spectacle in the middle of the field. A weapon, I think not. A gift, perhaps. A trick from William, almost certainly."

Godwinson followed the knight out of the tent and into the autumnal air. Many soldiers had gathered to witness the commotion that was occurring. When they sighted what the knight had so dubiously spoken of, they scratched their heads in wonder and bewilderment. It was unlike anything they'd ever seen before. It was a small, blue box.

Bill stirred from a deep unconsciousness; every light had been extinguished and so the emergency lighting had been activated. The sonic screwdriver lay beside her, producing a faint buzzing sound, its left emitter glowing with a phosphorescent light. She arose and gripped the screwdriver, pointing it, like a weapon, at the dinginess of the console room. Several lights that used to shine behind translucent, hexagonal panels had burst. A singed lever had broken from the console and had soared, like an asteroid, into a bookshelf.

"D... Doctor? Doctor, a... are you there?"

A sea of silence flooded the room; the hairs on the back of Bill's neck stuck up, like church spires. At last, muffled and croaky, there came a distant reply.

"I... I'm fine. I'm downstairs. Help. I'm trapped beneath this rubble. Quickly..."

Cautiously, she tiptoed down a flight of metal steps. She had never been down beneath the console before. The Doctor had spoken of the engines of the TARDIS before, but had never shown her them. If there was an engine, she couldn't see it through an impenetrable murkiness, a stygian gloom. Shining the sonic, like a flash light, she saw the weakened time lord gasping for breath beneath a pile of burnt debris. She rushed to his aid, lifting piece after piece of bent metal and smoking remains, off his damaged body. But before she could lift the heaviest rod of metal off the time lord, a figure rushed out of the solemn darkness; it was the Doctor! There were _two_ of them?

"Bill, don't remove that rod! He's an android, he's duplicated my appearance. After the explosions and damage to the console, a lever broke off it. That lever controlled the TARDIS vaults, where that machine was imprisoned. I rushed to see if it had escaped, but it was here all along."

"N... no! Don't listen to him! He's the android, not me!"

"Bill, give me the screwdriver and I can show you that that injured version of me is in fact a copy. He was manufactured in his thousands."

"N... no! Give me the screwdriver! I can cut through this rod with it! P... please!"

"Bill," the uninjured Doctor whispered softly. "I would never hurt you. You see, I've began to feel deeply for you. You wonder why I show you all these places? It's because I love you!"

Bill stepped back and the truth came to her.

"The Doctor would never say that!" she yelled at him, before handing the screwdriver to the injured Doctor; simultaneously, the real Doctor flashed the sonic at the fake and the android's legs and arms snapped together, before the robot crumpled to the floor with a heavy clang. Using the screwdriver again, the Doctor cut through the rod and, leaning against a wall, stood and brushed soot and ash from his ruined, velvet- like coat.

"Thank you," he said, before groaning. "That debris had its affect, though. Aargh! Ribs broken. Aargh! Organs squished. Stand back! This won't take a moment."

Seconds later, a supernatural, golden light shone upon the time lord's hands and face; it flowed off his fingers, like a yellow fog rolling off a mountainside; all of his skin was filled with a brilliant radiance. Bill covered her eyes, but she appeared to still see the light through her fingers. The light began to gather around the time lord and then burst from his skin, like a sluice of melted gold. Bill fell over as a strong force threw her back. She watched as his cuts, bruises and injuries disappeared, replaced with healthy, new skin. Then, the light faded, leaving stars in Bill's eyes. The healed Doctor shivered and brushed the last specks of gold dust from his clothes, before helping Bill to her feet.

"What on earth just happened?" she asked, her gaping mouth wide open.

"I healed myself. Time lord trick. We can heal our bodies using regeneration energy. Usually, I have to change my appearance, but I didn't want to; I like my eyebrows! I'm still in my twelfth incarnation- or, technically, my fourteenth, but we'll get to that later. Now, somebody ought to have spotted a bright blue box outside by now. Let's go check it out."

He made his way up the steps and onto the console platform, where Bill stared at the scorched console itself, melancholy.

"Will it work again?"

"Yes," said the Doctor, taking her by the hand. "She can repair herself- but not with us inside her. It'll take a good two hours, but she'll be ready in time for us to leave. Come on."

As soon as the Doctor opened the police box doors, he found a sharp arrowhead pointing directly at his face. The TARDIS was surrounded by archers, efficient and deadly.

"Ah! Spies! Servants of William! Godwinson will be proud of me!" spoke the leader, victoriously.

"Servants of William indeed!" chuckled the Doctor, stepping out onto the damp grass. "So, 1066! No televisions, no bicycles... not even any Shakespeare for another five hundred years. Come on out, Bill. There's no danger here."

"Yeah. But there's an arrow aimed at my head."

"A man and his wife hiding inside a blue box! How unpredictable."

"Oh, we're not married," interrupted Bill, adamant to prove her point. "So not."

"Listen, we do not come from William. We have come to help you. But first, tell me: have you noticed any irregular behaviour this past month?"

"Nothing, save our unforeseeable defeat at the Battle of Fulford... but we got Hardrada back at Stamford Bridge," there followed many approving nods from the archers. "But then there's you two showing up out of the blue. And what's inside that peculiar box. Stephen, John! Go take a look inside that thing!"

Before the archers could enter the TARDIS, the Doctor took out the screwdriver and activated it; the doors slammed shut and nothing, not even projected rocks, could open them.

"So! This is the devilry that William has sent us: a magician, his fellow witch and a wand of unimaginable power."

"That's sonic technology to you."

"Who you calling a witch?" yelled Bill, her rubicund face as red as a poisoned apple.

"Trust me, you don't want to make her angry."

Their hands were bound and they were escorted to the camp, to Harold Godwinson's tent. A knife pressed against their backs, they were forced to bow to the king. He had the tired eyes of an exhausted fighter, a noble leader.

"My men tell me that you so willingly associate yourselves with black magic. If this be true, then we can always burn you on a pyre if necessary. But first, you must tell me, what is inside your mysterious blue box?"

"Well, it's my... cart," said the Doctor, thinking on the spot.

"Your cart?"

"Why yes! My name's noble knight Doctor and this is maiden Bill. I travel around England selling items that I have crafted. It's a good job, you know."

"And... how does it move?" asked Godwinson, doubtful.

"Ah... er... well... I... er," he looked at Bill for some help, but she stared back at him. "My... horse was spooked and it fled into that nearby forest."

"What was your horse spooked by?"

"A hole in the ground."

"A _hole_? What an odd horse!"

"Indeed. But he was very nice and obedient."

"Okay, Doctor, I think King Godwinson has heard enough."

"Yes, quite right," said the time lord. "Quite right. To prove that I am not in league with William, would you like to see some of my crafted items? Perhaps, a gift especially for the greatest king in England..."

Godwinson nodded, despite being informed constantly by his advisor that time was running out to flee from William.

"Bill," the Doctor whispered, as the king spoke to his fellow soldiers. "A TARDIS key," he handed a standard Yale key to her surreptitiously, "She should be finished repairing herself. Pop inside and take out a couple of items that look weird and wonderful... and preferably something from the future. We don't want to give Godwinson anything that he's already seen. He could become very bored very quickly."

A moment later, Bill re- entered the tent, a collection of objects under her arm.

"I got this," she showed the Doctor a rod of metal, and at its end was a black dome; at the other end, assorted cables curved over the edge. It was in fact a dalek eyestalk.

"And what is this?" asked the king, holding it and examining it with a growing wonder.

"It... is... a... club, for rendering your foes unconscious with."

"And this?" the king stared, perplexed, at a battered cyberman helmet. "Is it a war helm?"

"Yes, well..." the Doctor stopped and listened for a moment; a faint bleep echoed around the tent. The time lord took out the screwdriver and watched as its emitter glowed tumultuously. It produced a hum. "I knew it!"

"What?" asked Bill, looking at the device.

"Alien technology- aside from the TARDIS- is around here. It's been keeping quiet for some time, but something has been noisy and the screwdriver's detected it. Back in a moment, Godwinson," he leapt to his feet and left the tent, Bill hurrying after him.

"W... wait... stop!" commanded the King. "Guards, after them!"

However, before the guards could seize the time lord, the Doctor ran back inside the tent, bowed hastily and took the eyestalk and the helmet with him.

"Thanks very much! Bye for now!"

"Come back! Guards!" Godwinson sat bewildered; was it natural for an escaper to return for his belongings?

The Doctor sprinted back to the TARDIS, pointing the sonic ahead of him. The bleeping became dimmer and quieter.

"The signal's fading... need to give it a boost!"

With a brief snap of his fingers, the police box doors creaked open and the time lord, reaching the console, inserted the screwdriver into an allotted position within the metal. Watching the scanner, which was suspended from a metal rod off the time rotor, the Doctor took the reading from the sonic and copied it into the TARDIS database. A digitally simulated map of east Sussex appeared on the screen, showing Godwinson's camp and then revealing a beeping red dot a mile eastwards, in a nearby forest.

"Got ya!"

"So, where are we going now?" asked Bill, closing the doors and barely avoiding a fired arrow.

"Well, we're treasure hunters, we've found our x- marks- the- spot. We're going in!"

After pulling down on a lever and twisting multiple dials, the TARDIS was in flight, and Bill's ears were filled with that wonderful whirring sound. Outside, Godwinson's men watched as the mysterious blue box vanished into thin air, their arrows that had pierced the wood disintegrating into ash. Meanwhile, the TARDIS had landed in unknown terrain, and any possible danger could have lurked outside.

When the Doctor cautiously opened the door, he saw that he had arrived in a purple dome, in which many desktops were laid out, all containing buttons and hand recognition pads. The room was silent. Taking the sonic out of the console, the time lord took multiple readings of the dome. As they both stepped out onto a floor of metal panels, the Doctor's elderly face formed a grave expression.

"I've seen this type of technology before... several bodies ago," before Bill could speak to him, she screamed in fright; stood several metres away was a short, stocky, dwarf- like figure, dressed in black armour up to the neck, where a bulbous, brown head was placed.

"Sontaran!" cried the Doctor, shielding Bill. "I thought I smelt the stench of a cloned warrior!"

"Halt," boomed the creature, clutching a blaster in his three fingers. "I am General Lahne of the fifth sontaran battle fleet, commander of sontaran sector two... and your enemy! State your names, puny humans."

"This is Bill... and I'm the Doctor!"

"The Doctor? The Doctor! If you speak the truth, then you are the infamous changer of faces, our sworn enemy. Anyone in league with him is also a foe to the glorious empire of Sontar. And I see that you have brought your TARDIS along with you too. The high leader will be pleased..."

"And who's the 'high leader'?" asked Bill.

"I am," replied a cold voice behind them; another sontaran stood grimly behind them, and another masked by a metal helmet, with two menacing slits for eyeholes. "Behold, enemy Doctor, I am Grand Leader Skor and I declare you to be my prisoners. But first, take his sonic device and dispose of it."

The masked sontaran, obviously a bodyguard, snatched the screwdriver from the Doctor's grasp, before crumpling and denting it. A malicious grin of relish and pure delight formed on Skor's face.

"Now, open your time vehicle and let us destroy it once and for all," snarled Lahne, but Skor raised his hand.

"No! It may yet be needed for the grand plan. It will remain here, under my watch," Lahne twitched with annoyance. "We will not quarrel with ourselves. We are few."

"Few?" asked the Doctor, curiously. "Few? Oh! Now, I see it! Of course! The war, the war between you and the Rutans! I meant to take a look, to see how it was going on. Obviously, not very well."

"Our whole battle station was destroyed by the accursed Rutans, everything the Sontaran empire ruled turned to ash!" snapped Lahne. "However, the three of us survived- along with experiment forty- three..."

"Experiment forty- three?" asked the Doctor. "You know, I'm learning a lot right now!"

"Experiment forty- three is a confidential matter, known only to us and the Emperor of Sontar who was burned in the destruction of our empire."

"But why come here? Why 1066, why earth?"

"The Battle of Hastings remains known and famous for thousands of years to come. A great war, and we will be part of it... we will win!"

"But, you can't do that!" said the Doctor, pointing a stern glance in Lahne's direction. "You will drastically alter history, you will alter the universe! And even if you could fight in the battle, there'll be three potato- heads against an army of angry Englishmen, not to mention William of Normandy. But this, this little argument between countries, is all this worth fighting for? I fought in a larger, more horrific war than you will ever see in your tiny little life, Skor! I've killed hundreds of your kind before, and I'll do it again!"

"Will you, time lord of Galifrey? Are you threatening me?" Skor's sharp, deadly eyes met with the Doctor's archaic ones.

"I'm giving you a chance, Skor. Get off this planet, or the sontaran race will become permanently extinct. Your choice."

"Your pathetic threats do not sway me from my mission, Doctor! Take them away!"

The masked sontaran seized them both with an iron fist and took them out of the dome and into a smaller room, where they were chained to a wall. From through a veil of gloominess, the Doctor could just see Bill, even though they were restrained close together.

"Oh, God!" said Bill, pulling on her chains. "We're gonna be stuck here forever. They broke the screwdriver and they've got the TARDIS! Oh, Doctor, what are we going to do?"

But the Doctor was not listening.

"Experiment forty- three, experiment forty- three. A confidential matter. They're desperate to stay alive and continue their species, and yet they want to rampage into the Battle of Hastings and alter history itself. I think experiment forty- three is some sort of secret advantage... Bill, can you reach my coat pocket?"

"Just... about," they both edged closer to each other.

"Good. Inside, you'll find a pair of sunglasses."

"What? We're not on a vacation," she said.

"Please, just trust me on this," awkwardly, Bill rummaged in the Doctor's pocket and pulled out the sunglasses. "Put them on, look at your chains and think the word: open."

After little difficulty, Bill's chains sprang apart, as if a sword had cut through them. She activated the glasses onto the Doctor's shackles and every chain link burst.

"Sonic glasses," he explained, putting them on himself. "I used to wear them a lot, but not many people liked them."

"So, where exactly are we?"

"In a sontaran space ship."

"What, like a flying saucer, or something?"

"More or less. We're deep underground. The ship must have crash landed here years ago."

"And what really are those sontarans?"

"They're a clone bred race from the planet Sontar. Sontar's gravity is six times what you have on earth, therefore, their bodies are shorter and more tank-like."

Following a buzz from the glasses, the prison doors slid open, revealing the sontaran guard! Bill was about to yell, until they realised that the guard had his back to them. Miming for her to be quiet, the Doctor steadily took his glasses off and swiftly forced the left ear hook into a circular piece that was inserted into a collar of neck armour. The guard shook violently, fell to the ground and was still convulsing a moment later. Holding one arm each, the pair of them dragged the sontaran into the prison cell and restrained him in the chains, repairing them with an activation of the glasses.

"What did you do?" asked Bill, checking to see if the chains were tight enough.

"The opening near his neck is called a probic vent. This was given to him during the cloning process. It is a sontaran's only weakness, save insulting it. This provides the incentive to keep charging towards your enemy and never to cower or turn away. One hit to the vent and it knocks a sontaran out cold. But we're not done with this one yet..."

The Doctor examined the fallen warrior, searching his belt and hidden pockets. He took out the bent screwdriver and, damaged though it was, it could still work. He then opened a small section of the guard's black gauntlet with the sonic, exposing multiple cables and a small computer chip.

"Sontarans are not robots. But they can download data into this chip, which they can access at any times," after zapping the chip with the sonic, a hologram- like projection appeared above it. "Of course! Experiments! The sontarans assigned certain members of their race to _not_ fight, to run tests, to see if there was a way of creating a whole legion of bloodthirsty soldiers and yet contain them within a small space, ready to be unleashed when Sontar's cause was most dire. That's what Skor's doing! He would never risk his life in battle if he was one of the last of his kind. He's going to bring a whole army of sontarans to the Battle of Hastings!"

"And what happens if he succeeds?" asked Bill, clutching the Doctor's arm.

"Goodbye, earth! Hello, chaos. But, wait! He'd need a power source to activate the experiment. This pile of junk won't be good enough," he tapped against the metal walls of the ship. "You'd need a fully working, non- crash landed ship to power it: the TARDIS!"

"That's why Skor didn't want it destroyed!"

"Yes. He's a clever fighter- well, potato- headed and as thick as a brick wall- but cunning when he wants to be."

"General Lahne, activate the extractor," ordered Skor, who stood mightily upon a platform, like an emperor's statue on a plinth.

Lahne operated a control panel below, pressing many buttons; above the control panel, was a tall, sharp, needle- like blade, the extractor itself. To Lahne's left, was the TARDIS and to his right was a metal box, runes carved throughout it. The experiment was inside.

"Today, we shall bring back the warriors of Sontar and we shall march to our impending victory! Lahne, initiate phase one!"

Nodding, Lahne pressed his hand upon a recognition pad; the police box was surrounded by an orange shield.

"Initiate phase two."

The point of the giant needle began to glow with a blinding light.

"Phase three."

A thin, cotton- like line of energy stretched from the TARDIS, to the needle, to the box.

"And, finally, initiate phase four! Sontar ha!" nothing happened; Lahne continually pressed the correct button, but nothing occurred. "Lahne, what is happening?"

"Ah! Well, I'm blocking your systems," the Doctor peeped his rascal- like head from behind the controls. "Sorry. I did warn you, Skor!" a wide grin grew on his face. "If you want to extricate the time essence from my TARDIS, you'll have to shoot through me first."

"That can easily be arranged," Skor primed a blaster, aimed and fired at the Doctor; however, the blast was deflected by an invisible shield. "What?" he looked at the TARDIS: its doors were open and Bill stood at the console.

"TARDIS force field. You can't shoot us, Skor. What are you going to do now? You've no weapon that can penetrate this shield, no army waiting to appear and no more honour. You're a coward, Skor. The pure sontaran race has long been extinct. You and your friend, Lahne, are just hybrids, born amongst a time of blood and death."

"Well then, Doctor, if I cannot kill you, then I will meet humanity above and slaughter any foe that dares to hinder Grand Leader Skor," he spoke to a device that was wrapped around his wrist. "Initiate time warp!"

There was a flash of resplendent light and the sontaran was gone, teleported into the heart of east Sussex, where the beginning of humanity would find an unexpected surprise.

"Now, he's gone and done it!" the Doctor raced to the TARDIS, and looking back, turned to Lahne. "Stay there, don't move!"

The 14th of October dawned and at 9am in the morning, Harold Godwinson stood amongst a dense formation of his soldiers, around the summit of Caldbec hill; they were protected by the forest behind them and the marshy terrain ahead. Duke William's forces were split into three groups at the foot of the hill: on the left, were the Bretons- lead by the ferocious Alan the Red- in the centre, were the Normans- under the direct orders of William himself- and on the right, was an army of Frenchmen- lead by William fitzOsbern. England's opposing forces waited below, like ravenous wolves with rending claws.

Then, as the two sides stared at each other with a vehement hatred, there was a flash of radiance and Skor appeared in between the armies. He raised his blaster aloft.

"Attention, humanity, neither of you will win this war. This battle will end in your obliteration and my victory. Sontar ha! Who dares to challenge Leader Skor? It will end in your downfall!" a long dormant lust for battle and a thrill for war had sparked inside the leader; he was armed and equipped for a long day of bloodshed, resulting in his utter triumph!

However, before Skor could charge, like a buffalo, through his enemies, there came an almighty crack and a deafening bang and the TARDIS shot through the sky, wreathed in electricity; the time machine ducked and swooped through the air, over Caldbec hill and down toward William; then, the box made an abrupt swerve and it landed, having collided with Skor and sent him hurtling through the air. The wounded sontaran heaved himself to his feet, leaning heavily upon his blaster; a bloody gash had appeared over his cheek. When he looked up, he saw the Doctor stood beside him, frowning with disappointment. Skor spoke to the device on his wrist, but nothing happened.

"Forget it. The electricity from the TARDIS' exterior destroyed your teleport. There's no escape."

"I guess not," as the Doctor hauled Skor's weakened body into the TARDIS, the wounded leader collapsed, with a heavy thud. He gasped for breath, coughing up droplets of green blood.

"I never thought that I would die like this," he spluttered, angrily towards the Doctor. "I wished of falling in battle, protecting Sontar... not because of a collision with your machine."

"Lie still," the Doctor scanned the leader's body; the results were relayed through the screwdriver: his time was up.

"Such gentle words... such a change of heart... towards an enemy," said Skor. "But then, you are a _doctor_."

"I'm sorry, Skor, I can't help you."

"Well then," the villainous grin reappeared on the sontaran's face. "If I cannot have this world, then neither will you!"

With his last breath, Skor pressed a button on his belt, which flashed red.

"No, no, no!" shouted the time lord, looking up at Bill, who stood at the console. "He's initiated the self destruct of his ship!"

"But it's so far underground," said Bill.

"Yes, and the explosion will spread to the earth's core which will then explode itself, destroying the earth!" he made to close the doors and prepare for flight, when he realised that there were two armies staring puzzled, amazed and perplexed at him and his mystical blue box.

"As you were, gents," he closed the doors and dematerialised just as the Norman archers fired upwards at Harold's men.

The TARDIS materialised in the sontaran space ship. The control desks and the wires that hung from the ceiling sparked and crackled, as a screen on the wall showed a bold countdown: in three minutes, the space craft would explode! The police box shuddered behind them as the temperature began to rise dangerously.

The Doctor rushed to the controls, attempting to prolong the ever shortening countdown. Fire burst from the walls, the metal beams from the ceiling collapsing and denting the floor. No matter how hard the Doctor tried, the sonic could not cancel the countdown. He slammed his fist upon the controls in fury. Fortunately, a screen on the control panel switched on; it read: _Please state your request_ , in a dull, computer- generated voice.

"Cancel self destruct countdown!" yelled the time lord; the voice replied coolly: _I'm sorry, the countdown was activated by Leader Skor and can only be deactivated by him_. "Well, that helps!"

"Stop!" cried a voice; the Doctor spun on his heels: it was Lahne! The warrior limped over to him, injured obviously by his ship's slow destruction; his brown skin was now black, scorched by an explosion. "Step away from the controls, Doctor! I will fulfil what so many of my kind have failed to do: annihilate you!"

"General Lahne, this ship's going to burn, along with the whole earth if you don't let me reset these buttons. There won't be anything left to annihilate!"

"Ha! Once again you underestimate the impetus to keep surviving, that us sontarans have. My escape pod is less than thirty metres away from this room, attached to this buried battle station. It alone has the power to push through the earth's crust and I will ascend into space!"

One minute remained.

"Lahne, I'm begging you, just stop! Save this world and I will let you leave this planet."

Fifty seconds remained.

"No, Doctor! Prepare to be obliterated!"

Just as Lahne fired his gun, the Doctor lurched out of the way, so that the blast hit the controls. The screen should have shown forty seconds until the explosion, but instead, because of the blast, it showed _twenty_! Realising that he had no time to attack the time lord, Lahne turned and ran to his escape ship. However, just as the sontaran ran, the Doctor pointed his screwdriver at Lahne's probic vent and activated it. To the time lord's very surprise, nothing happened. Lahne should have been stunned, but he only turned and mocked the Doctor.

"Behold, the one sontaran with enough common sense to protect his vent with a small, deadlocked cap! See you in hell, time lord!"

Within moments, Lahne had entered his space pod and had vanished. Ten seconds remained. Then, as if something had come to life inside the Doctor's head, he had an idea.

"Bill, quickly, help me bring Skor's body out of the TARDIS," they did so quickly and, with five seconds left until the death of everyone on earth, the Doctor seized the corpse's hand and placed it on the recognition pad. _Three, two, one_. Nothing.

The ship did not explode, and neither did the earth! The entire ship was silent. The Doctor sat down with relief. He smiled: he had saved the earth yet again.

"What did you do?" asked Bill, her heart still thumping wildly.

"Well, after our friend Lahne blasted the controls, they were damaged enough so that they only needed some form of approval from Skor to deactivate the countdown. By using his hand, the computer scanned his DNA and used that as an order to cancel the detonation."

Aside from the two defenders of earth, the whole spacecraft was neglected. Out of the entire universe, only one sontaran remained and perhaps, one day, Lahne and the Doctor would confront each other... at the end of all things...

"So, are we going home?" asked Bill, leaning against the TARDIS console.

"Not quite," explained the Doctor. "Quick detour! England, 1077."

Bill sat leaning against the police box doors, her hands feeling the green grass and her body warmed by the soothing sun above. The Doctor returned, his coat slung over his shoulder and a wild smile on his face again. He sat down with her.

"Met the Anglo-Saxon artists, saw them embroidering the tapestry. Commissioned by Bishop Odo of Bayeux. Seventy metres long, would you believe it? Anyway, I asked them to add a little more onto the end: you on a horse and me pointing in the direction of the TARDIS for thousands of years to come. The circle of events has been completed. Any remembrance of me in the battle will have been lost in the warfare, just a fairytale," he entered the TARDIS and began preparing for dematerialisation.

"So, do you think we'll ever see Lahne again?" Bill asked, flicking through one of the time lord's many books.

"Only time will tell. Probably. We've both got means of travel. We're bound to bump into each other some time. But when he does, he'll bring a storm of fire and death in his wake. Will I ever see him again? Almost certainly. And when I do, I'll be ready for him."


End file.
